Returning To The Garden

Naturally dyed with marigold and willow on cotton.
24in x 36in
$1,250

Statement
Growing up in the foothills of Colorado, my childhood was infused with texture and natural color. From exploring the red and orange clay found on afternoon hikes to the native flower garden growing in our backyard, I learned to appreciate the biodiversity of plants and place from a young age. I learned to pay attention—to see the world as a place worthy of deep wonder, a form of prayer. Today, that same curiosity grounds my practice in the fields of Saxapahaw, North Carolina. My evolving work in textiles and fibers seeks to create spaces to explore who we are as nurturers of the land and our communities.

Developing natural color is an immersive and wholly sensory experience. For example, experimenting with the age-old dye plant Japanese Indigo is awe-inspiring: from the colors that emerge—deep blues to hues of turquoise—to the smell of the dye vat. Throughout my process, I often use whole plants rather than extracts, so I have grown to understand the seasonal availability, growth cycles, and color potential of plants native to North Carolina. This knowledge allows me to develop color palettes specific to the seasons of the year and enables me to connect with the cycle of seasonal ecologies—both of which are foundational to my body of work.

Much of our modern culture functions within systems that make us prone to live out of sync with the rhythms of the natural world. My interest has become an urgent call to return to the land; to identify a plant and cultivate one’s own color is to restore a fundamental, healthy connection to our environment. By exploring how botanical pigments interact with natural fibers, I seek to bridge the gap between ourselves and the earth's cycles. Engaging with plant-based color provides an opportunity to choose a slower, more intentional path—one that invites us to view color not as a commodity, but as a living gift of the seasons.

Returning to the garden is a spiral rhythm. It is a slow initiation; let the soil and light carry what is too heavy to bear alone. Stand still. Experience the grace of being held.

Sayde Laine Andersen
Chapel Hill, NC
www.saydelaine.com